


Heart and Ivory

by Saesama



Series: 28xFirst Kiss Combo [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dirk is an awkward baby ostrich, First Kiss, M/M, Piano
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 19:11:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saesama/pseuds/Saesama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John isn't a music teacher, but he's willing to take on a student anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart and Ivory

Your fingers dance over the piano keys, chasing some melody from the back of your mind. It's relaxing, requiring just enough brain power that you don't have to really concentrate but you're too distracted to think about anything else. You're pretty certain you can use this to channel Breath, weaving chaos and weather with music. Dave already uses rhythm to mark Time, so, why not?

Movement in the corner of your vision and you glance up. He's huddled by the door, his arms folded and his shoulders ruched up, watching you play. You give him an easy smile. "Hey, Dirk."

He jerks his head at you in response. In text, he's smooth and intelligent, words flowing freely and you can see where Dave and Rose get it from. In person, he's twitchy and quiet and he speaks funny, his accent all over the place because he learned to speak from Youtube videos and movies, and he pronounces words exactly how he first heard them. He holds himself cool and aloof so that people don't see how awkward he is, and he's only relaxed when he's strifing.

You watch him for a moment, but he doesn't seem keen to start a conversation, so you go back to your impromptu melody. You chase he scales up and down, fiddle a bit at the lower octaves then meander back towards the middle, just screwing around. Dirk edges closer like a wary cat, until he's standing at your shoulder. "Do you wanna learn?" you ask without looking at him, because he's more likely to answer if he can pretend like you're not expecting him to.

"Yeah, sure," he says after a moment, the 'yeah' Detroit-slang sharp and the 'sure' southern drawled and he talks like one of those ransom notes with the letters cut from newspaper. 

You get up and bow him to the stool with a little flourish. He unfolds and hunches on the stool and doesn't touch the keys and his nervousness is kind of adorable. "Dude, it's not gonna bite," you say, laughing only a little because he'll retreat if he thinks you're mocking him.

It occurs to you to wonder how you've managed to catalogue so many of his quirks and mannerisms. You put the thought from your mind.

He shoots you a look that's probably a glare and lays his hands on the piano as if it's a computer keyboard. You lean over his shoulder to adjust the tilt of his hands - his breath catches and tension grabs his spine - then his posture, poking him in the back to get him to stop slouching. He huffs and rolls his shoulders and sets them regally, all of a sudden a Prince and you hum approvingly.

You lean over him again to show him the keys. He knows music already so you show him the octaves, batting his hands from the ebonies until he gets the hang of the ivories. You play and his fingers follow yours in perfect lockstep, through a slow, doubled version of 'Hot Cross Buns', then 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star'. 

"You're a natural," you grin. His ears turn pink and he grunts at you.

He never loses that tension, but it changes as his hands chase yours through simple songs. He shifts a little, fidgets a little in his seat, and eventually, you realize that he's leaning back against you, his shoulders pressing lightly against your chest. His ears are still pink. It's cute.

He brushes your hands away and contemplates for a moment, then he picks out a tune. He plinks the keys one by one, not yet familiar with where each note is but he's learning fast and you recognize the song as a slow, stuttered version of a song he'd composed with Dave a little while before. You watch him play, your hands just kind of resting on his shoulders. He gets through the song, then does it again and he's still playing like he's typing, but it's much smoother this time. 

He finishes and sits back and he looks so damn pleased with himself that you grin and squeeze his shoulders encouragingly. All of a sudden his actions are jerky and terse again and his ears darken. His hands drop to his knees and his shoulders hunch and you get a damn clue and let him go. "You really are a natural," you tell him. "I'm not a teacher, but if you wanna learn, I'm down."

He nods slowly. "That'd be cool," he says, standing and shoving his hands into his pockets. He might be looking at you, you can't tell. Then he leans forward and kind of... mooshes his lips against the corner of your mouth. His glasses click against yours and he jerks back before you can do anything, his whole face red and there's no way he's looking at you now. "Thanks John," he mutters before he absconds, and you just end up staring after him, shocked.


End file.
